


The Touch That Heals

by angelsfalling16



Series: 20 First Kisses [15]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, SnowBaz, so i hope you all like it, this is my first attempt at a soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: Your soulmate's touch can heal any wounds/scars that you have. With Simon and Baz always fighting, it takes them a long time to realize that they're meant to be.





	The Touch That Heals

**Author's Note:**

> @ace-of-haerts on Tumblr requested a soulmate fic, and I found an idea that said "Your soulmate's touch can heal wounds/fade scars au."
> 
> Thank you @wo2ash for beta reading!! <3

Simon and Baz rarely touch each other unless they’re fighting, so even though they’ve lived in the same room for over seven years, neither of them ever noticed that something good could come from their touch. The only thing that ever struck them as odd was the fact that no matter how hard they punched each other, it never left a mark. They never managed to cause each other actual physical injuries.

It never occurred to them that there was a reason behind this. That their touch was healing at the same time that it was hurting.

It did cross Baz’s mind once actually. Simon was constantly getting injured, returning covered in bruises after going off on some mission with the Mage, and he definitely got hurt when he fell down the stairs during one of their fights. So, he should have been receiving injuries whenever Baz hit him.

It was after one particularly nasty fistfight that they got into where they both walked away unscathed that Baz began to wonder. It was not long after Baz had realized that he was in love with Simon. Picking a fight with him seemed like the best way to try to get it out of his head, and he really was angry with Simon for making him fall in love with him. It made him even angrier that nothing he did managed to hurt Simon, but it felt good to get out of his system.

As he lay wake in bed that night, it came to him, the thought that maybe their touch couldn’t hurt each other because a soulmate’s touch was supposed to heal. He rolled the idea over in his head, and it made sense. It would explain their lack of injuries.

But then reality hit Baz. They weren’t soulmates. They couldn’t be. Simon hated him, and there was no way that that would ever change. Baz knew that his love was unrequited, and he was stupid to ever think otherwise.

Then, he brushed the idea off as wishful thinking and refused to think about it ever again.

It isn’t until Simon comes in one day with a deep cut across his cheek that he hasn’t bothered to get healed that they realize the truth.

***

**Baz**

The door of mine and Simon’s room opens, and I look up from my book to see him walk in, looking like a mess and utterly exhausted.

It’s late at night, and I haven’t seen him since this morning before breakfast. I’m pretty sure that he was off with the Mage, and I wasn’t even sure he’d return tonight.

He just stands there a moment, like he’s a little dazed. I wonder if he hit his head. My eyes drag down his body to check that he’s in one piece, and while he seems physically okay, his clothes are covered in mud and ripped around the hems.

I sigh a breath of relief. Even if we aren’t friends, I still care whether he gets hurt. I return my gaze to his face, which is also smeared with mud, probably from him rubbing his hands over it. This is why it takes me a moment to notice the cut on his cheek. Blood is streaming down from it and mixing with the mud, but he doesn’t seem to have even noticed it.

“Bloody hell, Snow,” I say, sliding off my bed. “Did you have a fight with the ground today?”

“Shut up,” he says half-heartedly, sounding as tired as he looks.

“You’re covered in mud.” It’s a stupid statement, but I hope it distracts him from the worry that’s evident in my own voice.

“I know that. I don’t need you to point it out.” Talking seems to wake him up, and he starts to move towards the en suite.

“Wait.”

“Why? Do you want to make fun of me some more? Because I’m too tired to sit here and listen to it right now.”

“No, you’re hurt.”

“It’s just a small cut.”

“It looks bad.” It’s a lie. It doesn’t really look that bad, but I’m still concerned.

“Whatever. I’m fine.”

“Let me look at it,” I say, moving closer to him to try get a better look.

“No,” he says, shoving me lightly away, not hard enough for the Anathema to think he’s hurting me but enough to stop me from moving closer.

“Snow—.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“I don’t want you to bleed out in our room.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Another lie.

“Then, leave me alone.”

“Come on Snow, just let me look at it.”

“Fine,” he grits out begrudgingly.

I hesitate a moment, waiting for him to try to push me away again, but when he doesn’t I step forward and raise a hand to his face. He winces, and I stop, letting my hand hover there, less than an inch from his face. I wait another couple of beats before finally resting my hand on his cheek, running the pad of my thumb just below the cut as I lean closer to inspect it.

As my thumb moves, the cut disappears. The blood stops flowing, and the skin seems to stitch itself back together. There’s no sign that it was even there, not even a scar.

I suck in a breath. “Simon…”

“What?” He asks, but I’m too stunned to respond. “What is it?”

It can’t be. This can’t be real. There’s no way that that just happened.

But it did. His cheek healed itself. It healed when I touched him.

“You should, you should look at your cheek,” I tell him.

“It’s bad, I know,” he says waving me off. “I’ll go get it checked in a bit. I just need to wash up first.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s—.”

“Just let me go.” He pushes me away and steps toward the en suite.

I sigh and let him go. He will find out soon enough on his own, and I doubt he’ll believe me until he sees it anyway.

“Okay,” I say, stepping back.

**Simon**

Baz is acting really weird tonight. First, he seemed like he was actually worried about me when he saw the cut. Then, he started acting weird after he touched my face, which was strange in and of itself because he never touches me. Not that gently, not with that much care.

He turns away from me, and I take the opportunity to escape into the bathroom. I lean against the door and let my eyes fall shut for a moment. I’m exhausted. I just want to go to bed, but I need to wash up first.

I push myself off of the door and move towards the mirror so that I can get a better look at my cheek, to see if it’s really as bad as Baz said. There’s too much blood and mud to see it clearly, so I grab a cloth and wet it.

I swipe at my cheek carefully, expecting to feel the sting of an open cut, but there’s no pain. I wipe at it again, but I still don’t feel anything. I don’t see anything either. The blood doesn’t seem to be flowing anymore, and I don’t see a source.

Frowning, I continue to clean my cheek until it’s completely clear. Still, I don’t see anything. It doesn’t make sense. There was definitely a cut there before; I felt it. I remember it happening. But it seems to have just disappeared.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of it. It couldn’t have just healed itself on its own, so did I imagine it?

No. Because Baz saw it. He was concerned about it.

The realization of what it means hits me slowly.

Baz was surprised by what he saw when he touched my face. His hand rested on my cheek, and his whole body changed. He tensed up, but his expression seemed to soften as he looked into my eyes.

I know what it means when someone’s touch heals you. Everyone does. You hear stories of it happening when you’re younger, but I never expected it to happen to me. I never thought that’d I’d find that person.

And that person is _Baz_? No, it can’t be. He hates me. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake.

I should go out there and talk to him. I should see if this is really what it means.

My heart races at the thought that this is real, and I know that I want it to be.

I want Baz to be my soulmate.

**Baz**

I hear him come out of the bathroom, but I don’t look up. I never heard the water come on, so that must mean that he noticed that the cut on his cheek was gone.

“Baz,” he says, quietly enough that if I wasn’t a vampire, I most likely wouldn’t have heard him.

I don’t look up at him from where I’m sitting on my bed. I considered leaving our room and going down to the Catacombs so that I could avoid him, but I chose to stay. He’s probably angry, angry that it’s me who is his soulmate, and I don’t want to see that. I don’t want to know how much he resents having me as a soulmate.

But I decided to stay because it’s best to just get it over with. If he’s going to yell at me and get mad, I might as well face it now.

I hear him moving closer to me, so I finally look up. I don’t see the anger there that I was expecting, but he still doesn’t seem happy.

“Baz, get up,” he says softly.

“Why? So you can hit me?”

“No. Why would I hit you?” His brows wrinkle in confusion, and it’s a cute look on him.

“Because you know the truth now, and you hate that I’m the person who you’re destined to be with.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean, I was surprised, of course, but it makes sense, you know?”

“No,” I say, mostly just to spite him. “I don’t know.”

“Well, we never got hurt whenever we fought, which was a little strange, but this would explain that. And then there’s the fact that—.”

He seems to cut himself off, pressing his lips tightly together.

“The fact that what?” I ask curiously.

He’s quiet for a moment before giving in. “I’ve always watched you and followed you around. I thought you were plotting something, but there was more to it than that. I wanted to be near you, and I couldn’t explain it.”

I’m surprised by the admission, but I try not to let it show. “So, what are you saying?” I ask.

He sighs and steps closer until he’s standing beside my bed. I feel weird sitting below him like this, so I move to stand in front of him, leaving only a little bit of space between us.

“That this is real. We’re soulmates, and I’m glad.”

I want to be happy about this. I am happy, but I’m also upset because this isn’t fair. Simon and I have been pitted against each other since we were eleven, and now it turns out that we’re supposed to be together? How is that going to work? We’re supposed to fight each other eventually.

“It isn’t fair,” I say aloud.

“What isn’t?”

“Us being soulmates.”

Simon steps away, like my words physically move him. “Oh. You hate it.”

“No. _No_ ,” I repeat with more emphasis this time. “I don’t hate it. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I don’t hate it.”

“You just said that it wasn’t fair.”

“It _isn’t_ , but that’s because you and I are supposed to fight. We don’t both make it out of this alive.”

“Out of what?” He asks, looking confused again, and I fight the urge reach out and smooth out his forehead with my thumb.

“The war between the Mage and the Families.”

“They won’t make us fight when they find out.” He says it like he believes that it’s true.

“You can’t really believe that they’ll change their minds about us fighting just because we’re soulmates.” The word feels weird in my mouth. I had half-believed that I wouldn’t be allowed a soulmate after I was Turned. Or, whoever my soulmate turned out to be wouldn’t want me because of it. Yet, here Simon is, offering me the world, so why am I fighting it?

“We can choose not to fight.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“I know, but we have to at least try.” He reaches out to take my hand in his, and I want to believe him. I want him to be right.

“Okay,” I say finally, squeezing his hand.

**Simon**

Baz is looking at me strangely again. I’m afraid that he might hit me or yell at me to go away. I hadn’t expected him to react so well to the fact that we’re soulmates. I thought he would be angry about it, but instead, he seems happy.

**Baz**

I should kiss Simon now. It feels like the perfect time, but I don’t want to mess this up. I’ve dreamt about kissing Simon Snow for years, and now that I finally can, I’m nervous.

He’s looking at me with those bright blue eyes, and the warmth that I see in them makes my heart melt.

I should just kiss him. Who cares if it isn’t perfect? We’re meant to be together, and that is all that matters.

“Simon—,” I start.

Then, _he_ kisses _me_.

**Simon**

I can’t believe that I really just kissed Baz. That I’m _kissing_ him.

This has to be a dream. There’s no way that it’s real. I have to be dreaming because Baz has never been this close to me without trying to hit me.

Only, this kiss feels nothing like when I kissed him in dreams — which is something that he’ll never know about. There have been more nights than I care to admit when I woke up with my heart racing in my chest, not from a nightmare, but from dreaming about kissing Baz. Pushing him up against a wall and kissing him until he stopped insulting me and pulled me closer, never letting go.

I never believed that those dreams meant anything. They couldn’t mean anything when Baz hated me, but now, it’s all starting to click into place.

I let my hand slide up his arm and to the side of his neck, and my thumb brushes over two spots that I thought were there but have never seen. I pull away so that I can look at his neck, and I can see that I was right about what the two circles are.

“Shouldn’t my touch take away your...vampirism?” I ask.

“It doesn’t work like that, Snow.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t just a scar. It’s who I am.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay, though,” he says, and I’m not sure whether he’s trying to reassure me or himself.

“You’re right. You wouldn’t be you without it.”

“Are you saying that you wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t a vampire?” He asks, with a slight smirk.

“No, I’m saying that I don’t care if you are one. I love you anyway.”

His mouth drops open in a very un-Bazlike manner. I quickly go back over what I just said in my mind, and my stomach drops as I realize what it was I said.

“I-I mean,” I try, but I don’t think there’s any way that I can take that back. Two minutes into whatever this is, and I’ve already messed it up.

He seems to shake himself out of the shock, and I’m surprised when his mouth curves up into a smile.

“I love you, too, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.”

He sighs, but there’s still a smile on his face. “I love you, _Simon_.”

I kiss him again then, leaning against his chest and wrapping my arms around him to pull him closer. But then he’s pushing me away.

“I may have cleaned your cut, but you still need a shower.”

I laugh, too happy to care about that.

“But this is so much better.”

“It would be better if you were clean.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m not going to kiss you anymore until you go wash up. You’re getting mud all over me.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.”

“That’s true.” I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face, and my hearts picks up speed when he returns it. He’s beautiful.

Sighing, I decide that he’s right. I need to shower. I press a quick kiss to his lips once more before reluctantly moving away.

I hurry so that I can return to him as quickly as possible. I still can’t believe that he’s my soulmate, but it feels right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3


End file.
